My Light in these Dark Times
by kknux
Summary: Roxanne is dealing with her Brother becoming a Death Eater against his will. She waits on edge to hear from him as the tensions mount. When she meets Draco their love begins when they confide in each other, until he is ordered to kill her Brother.
1. Chapter 1

Her toes curled over the edge of the stairs as she descended slowly into the darkness of the common room. The last dying embers of the fire illuminated a small orb of light surrounding it while the rest of the room feel into deep shadows, Roxanne stood amongst the darkness, feeling like a beacon in the night as the little light in the room reflected off her pale skin. Pulling her long jacket tighter around her exposed flesh in an attempt to become one with the darkness she moved away from the only source of light which remand in the room and headed instead for the exit. As she descended the spiral stairs towards her liberation her cold feet screamed in protest, a demand she refused for fear that the clicking of her shoes would betray her. The flexible ballet flats buried deep in her pocket would only deter the already chronically ungraceful girl.

Making her way slowly down the hall way, her ears sharp and her over sized hood pulled far over her face, but as always the small amount of light which poured in through the windows of this ancient castle gave her away to anyone who knew her, or has at least those who noted her fair skin as they passed her in the hallways. Her blanched complexion was only made more extreme with the combination of her long dark hair and light pink lips, the overall look, while for the most part quite extreme looking was softened by the small constellation of freckles which lightly splashed about her face. Slowly making her way past the sleeping portraits and the never ending hallways she had yet to venture down. Each one ending in the darkness she desired a darkness she could never claim. Finally after a close call with the Prefect from Hufflepuff which would have cost her her mission, she found her way to the stairs which would take her to the Owlery.

The tall over powering presence of the stone walls reminded her of her insignificance, and she couldn't help but think about the downward crushing power if the stones came crashing down. The Ravenclaw in her rushed through a number of spells which would counter gravities offense as she slipped on her ballet flats to avoid the rancid hay and droppings which littered the floor. She quickly looked to the railings for Hemlock, her ebony owl. '

"The rain must be worse than I thought, he is never late" She mused out loud, no longer worried that she would be over heard, especially with the constant assault of rain on the rooftop. The thought of her small owl in this rain made her nervous, though it was his small stature which made him so fast, this wind would shoot him far off course. She sighed loudly as she took herself to the stairs once again to sit and wait. Placing her head in her palms, elbow on knees she never remembered falling asleep. Although she should have expected it. Waiting for news from him meant very little sleep.

The sound of footsteps did not wake her, but the slightest brush of the mans robe as he passed had her pulling herself from the ground in a rather ungraceful manner. This movement startled them both and she saw the missed step before it happened, and as gravity took its inconvenient course she instinctively reached out for the man who stood in the doorway, grasping his forearm. He was better prepared for her movements and did not go tumbling down the steep stairs with her as she was expecting. Instead he stood strong, as she hung onto him, leaning almost entirely back. He made no movement to help her into a right position, though he did not shake her loose either, a fact she was grateful for. As her free arm waved her into balance he stepped back to make room for her on the ledge of the top step. Her eyes darted from his cold grey eyes to his platinum hair. She recognized him as non-other than Draco Malfoy.

"You're out kind of late Mr. Malfoy." She smiled at her own hypocrisy.

"A simple thank you would suffice" His voice was as cold as his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement. It seemed that what he had heard of her reputation for being argumentative and difficult had been dead on.

"A thank you?" She tilted her head at him, squinting her eyes for a moment before she continued, "...for knocking me over?"

He made a noise in the back of his throat which she assumed was a chuckle, "Firstly Miss O'Nickle, one does not expect to run into another person in the middle of the night, let alone one who chooses to sleep at the top of the stairs. I thought I handled the situation -" He paused, as a crocked smile tugged at the corners of his pale lips as he searched for the appropriate words. "... delicately."

She opened her mouth to protest but he was already ready with his hand held up to silence her.

"Secondly, if it was not for me you would be in a heap at the bottom of those stairs." His eyes flashed.

"Interesting that you see it that way Mr. Malfoy, because as I remember it you only stood there. Preventing yourself from falling without assisting the damsel is no grounds for a 'thank you'."

"Roxanne, you are hardly a damsel, and I doubt you have ever been in distress." To his shame, his voice quickly wavered as he noted the look of pain on her face. She was so relentless in classes he shared with her. In all the years he has known her, she never lost an argument. His victory over her did not give him as much pleasure as he would have expected.

She released the breath she didn't realize she was holding, and looked for an escape, silently cursing at herself for her inability to conceal her emotions, but her lack of sleep was taking a toll on her, and even her grades had begun to suffer for it. She refused to allow it to get the better of her here, in this company, so she only glanced up at him from behind her eyelashes, "And if I were, you obviously would not be much help. You're legendary for your' self preservation at the expense of others." She hissed. Her voice was harsher than she intended, and she immediately regretted it, but she moved away from him and pushed herself deeper into the Owlery.

He refused to show the pain her words caused, and allowed her to push by him. Her movement reminded him of why he had come up here in the first place. The letter for his mother weighed heavy in his pocket. Roxanne was wrong, well mostly so. His self preservation melted away when his family entered the picture, but he did not correct her error. Her knowledge of his deeper emotions was irrelevant. There was more to him then he let on, but his ability to compartmentalize gave him the opportunity to be different people in different situations, and right now he was playing the part of the attendant student, and the closest connections to Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters were` his opinion of the muggleborn.

The moment of silence deepened between them, giving her the time for her guilt to increase. She was in Ravenclaw for a reason, and his facade was not fooling her. She heard the rumours, rumours which she usually ignored, but standing here now in front of Draco she understood there were layers he expertly hid. Perhaps there was more to him then moral coward she had spent seven years with. Her guilt swam to the surface once again and she turned towards him, "Draco,-" she paused as she waited for his grey eyes to meet hers, "-I'm sorry, it was not my-" but she was interrupted by the screaming of an owl, their head whipped around towards the sound.

There sat both of their owls, her already tiny owl dwarfed next to his. They both held something for their respective owners. Draco's held an over sized package, complete with a red satin bow. Someone took care to wrap this care package. Roxanne guessed it to be from his mother, though it was an odd idea to imagine a sensitive side to him. Her own owl held a small letter which had seen better days. She couldn't image the lengths her step brother must have gone through to have those few lines make it to her in one piece.

He moved before she did, scooping up the package and swiftly replaced it with his letter of return, which looked to have the same love and care as the one from his mother. He reached over towards her owl tugged the painfully destroyed envelope from its leg and glanced down at the crumpled note. The initials 'C.H' remained persistent but faded in the upper right hand corner. The initials seemed familiar to him, and he racked his memory for the answer.

As she watched him pull the envelope from Hemlock, she noticed his gentle demeanour and the deep V between his eyes as he analyzed the initials in the corner. Her expression mirrors his. There is no way that he would be able to pin the name to her. Her step brother initials did not match hers. Her father refused to offer his last name 'O'Nickle' to the offspring of another man. It was bad enough that he had to house and feed the boy from his blood-traitor-of-a-wife's past. If Draco recognized the initials it would only be because the rumours about his assimilation as a Death Eater were true. Colton Hawke, her step-brother had attended Durmstrung by her father's orders, not Hogwarts. When she mentioned a brother, people assumed they shared surnames, and she did not correct them.

Standing there in front of him she decided that it would not be Draco Malfoy who ousted this little known fact. Approaching him slowly she reached out her hand, blocking the envelope to break his connection. His face lifted, the furrow still remained.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy." Her hand still extended, her weak smile was soft and pleading. She could barely handle the image of innocence. At least she wouldn't have to lie to him if he asked how the envelope came to be in such a state.

Her smile softened him; he abandoned his contemplations as he placed the letter in her hand. He had never seen her so vulnerable before, perhaps she wasn't always an unreasonable shark. But the state of the letter and those initials nagged the back of his mind.

"Looks to me like C.H went through a lot to get this to you." He said softly.

Her eyes squinted for a moment at his kindness before she responded. "It seems someone cares just as much about you." She nodded towards the package tucked under his arm.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He questioned more harshly then he intended. Pity, he was being almost human.

She paused for a moment at his change in demur, but his softness from a moment ago still lingered, and she realized that for the most part, this man, trapped between the worlds of his own emotions had a hell of a bark, with no bite. A corner of her lips tugged up for a moment before she answered, looking up at him.

"No, it's not."

He took a quick breath, and it was then that he realized how close they stood as the smell of her long hair tingled his nose. Earth, she reminded him of fresh soil and leaves. The moment seemed to last forever before she cleared her throat, and he was snapped back.


	2. Chapter 2

_Don't throw things at me please, but there will be absolutely nothing about Draco in this Chapter. I am trying to paint you a picture of Roxanne's past, all which will become relevant in later Chapters. Also, Roxanne shares many of Draco's ideals, although she is not an evil character, she is also not a good one. (I figured I warn you, so your not expecting a morally perfect girl to swoop in and change Draco's life and turn him into a first class citizen. I figured this would be less of a jump from the Canon Draco, plus it's no fun for me to write "good guys") I am also trying to reflect the gray area surrounding the social and political strife of the Wizarding War, and since there is not much of that shown in JKR's books I am sort of taking the incentive to create this middle ground. I hope that this all makes sense._

* * *

"_Incendio"_ she muttered as she entered the Ravenclaw common room, pointing her wand towards the fireplace as the cool night flitted through the windows, which tugged at the silk curtains. The fire erupted at once and cast a warming glow on the midnight blue carpet before it. Despite the brief sprouts of cold air her sweaty palms stuck to the envelope. She was so eager to hear news from him and when she finally did, she was always too frightened to read it. Taking the strides her long legs allowed she paced the common room; the sound of the fire devouring its meal reminded her of the pointlessness of her actions. Eventually she found herself in an arm chair by the fire, the letter sat inconspicuously on the arm as she continued to stare at it, willing it too reveal its secrets. Slowly she moved her hand so that it covered the envelope; she took a long breath and pulled it into her lap. It felt heavy in her hands and she struggled to tug the paper from its packaging. When she unfolded the stained letter she recognized her brother's elongated handwriting, the rushed scribbles strewn across the page. She let her hair create a boundary, shielding herself from the rest of the world as she dipped her head to read.

'_Dear Rock—'_she smiled at the nickname, remembering her summers with her step brother long ago. Her father has always been hard on him, pulling him in all directions to 'purge his blood'; her father called it, and when things got hard the level headed Roxanne was always there. He began to call her his Rock. The memory faded as she continued reading;

'—_I know that you have been waiting for word. This continues to get harder; I think he knows my heart is not in it. Do you remember your father's camps? He is starting them up again over the Christmas Holidays—' _She groaned, recalling the countless summers and holidays with her father's 'camp'. An organization he held which taught charms, incantations and duelling for students on their holidays. It was a camp which although not overtly so, was directed towards the Dark Arts. She would be put to work again this Christmas, dealing with bratty children and the demanding and rigours task of being teacher's guinea pig. A position which left little time for relaxation, but perhaps one that also made her quite dangerous with a wand. _'—I know your groaning, but stop! Many of the Death Eaters are sending their children to your father's camp, and with the increase of enrolment he needs the extra help. I volunteered. Long story short this Christmas Holiday I will be home. _

_Sorry this must be cut short, don't look for a letter until closer to the holidays. _

_Love, C.H'_

She could not help but smile as she thought about seeing him over the Christmas Holiday's, even though she would be subjected to her father's classes. That thought alone could not bring down her good mood. Her biggest objection to his camp was that she would not have much of a Holiday, but of course without his constant pressure she might not be the great Witch that she was today, and would not have found herself in her mother's house; Ravenclaw. The thought of her brought it all crashing down around her. What would she think of her husband's forwardness? In reality it was never a secret where her father's alliances lie, but he also never admitted to either side, he was a coward, but she loved him.

Her mother on the other hand openly enjoyed the idea of a pure blooded society of Witches and Wizards, but it was not because she found the alternative repulsive, in fact she was quite indifferent to Muggles and their offspring, magically gifted or otherwise. It was the idea that magic may be lost or diluted over time, if say a half-blooded Witch produced offspring with a Muggle and that child with another Muggle, and if this pattern continued, the gift maybe lost on that branch of the family tree. In short, her mother was frightened that the magical world would breed itself out. It was a theory she employed and researched heavily after the birth of her first son to a Muggle Father. Whether by coincidence or not, the boy was born with no magic and was therefore sent to a Muggle school, but having a Witch as a mother in a world which did not believe in such childish tales labelled the boy as an oddity. He was subject to daily beatings by the school bullies, until one day, after the school bell chimed out the end of the day, and he began the short walk home; alone as usual, they collected around him, hitting and kicking him until he no longer moved. Her mother always believed that the death of her first son could have been prevented if he had turned out to be a Wizard. The thought tormented her as her second son, Colton, grew in her belly. Terrified she fled her Muggle Husbands home, straight into the arms of Roxanne's father.

He had loved her very much, despite the being growing within her, and when Cole was born, with quite astounding magical gifts her father accepting him the best a man without his own children could. The 'purging' of Cole's blood began early, and when the time came, he sent the boy to Durmstrung. Her father was always harder on Cole, expecting more from him, and Cole did everything he could to please his Step Father, becoming a Death Eater was one of those cases, but her father was unrelenting and still refused to offer his step son his last name. It was not, Roxanne suspected, out of hatred, but instead out of the fear that his name would be tainted by the blood of Cole's half blood offspring.

Roxanne found herself straddling the two sides. Although she shared her mother's fears of her family losing magic generations from now, she could not stomach the bloodshed involved in Voledemort's world. She desired pure blood, and held it in the highest regard, but also held no ill will towards Muggles, or even the Half Blooded, she felt no inclination to rid the world of them. Her father, who was the type of man to route for the winning side had accepted so many soon-to-be-Death Eater. He was not the gambling type, and would not risk his safety and that of his families unless he was absolutely certain he had chosen the winning side. If this was so, a lot of blood would be spilt before the school year commenced. These thought swirled around in her head for quite some time before her exhaustion began to take hold of her, the warmth of the room cradled her and she was finally pulled into a deep slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of shuffling feet disrupted her and she moaned quietly into the arm of her chair. The light fluttered through the windows and she only remembered she was not in her bed when she reached for her comforter to pull it over her head.

"Roxy?"The softness of his voice made her wonder if she were still dreaming. So she moaned again and tried to roll over on the small armchair, but her movement was stunted by the chair and she slid quit suddenly from the seat onto the floor with a loud thump.

"Roxy! Are you alright?" His voice was not as soft this time and when she opened her eyes; his face blurred then cleared into the vision of Richard Ladouceur, a fellow Ravenclaw. As it cleared she recognized the look of concern etched on his face, his dirty blond hair falling into his soft brown eyes, she smiled weakly as a pain began to crawl up her spine. Richard placed his arm around her back and side to pull her up onto her feet, the look of concern still visible.

"Why are you down here Rox? You're not even ready for class, it starts in 10 minutes!" He chastised her.

"Oh stop it Rich, I'm fine, I just fell asleep reading last night." She stepped away from him, but regretted it as a look of pain flashed behind those soft eyes. She sighed and reached for his arm as she looked up at him and smiled. "Go ahead Rich, and save me a spot okay?"

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, he didn't see a book of any kind around her, but he dropped the subject and just nodded, the presence of her hand on his arm sharpened his senses and he looked at her one last time in warning, although he did not say anything he would not allow her to think that her lie had gone unnoticed. He turned away slowly, looking back often as she pulled herself towards the stairs.

When she finally made it to charms after hiding her brother's letter and donning appropriate school attire, she was only a few moments late, but Professor Flitwick had already begun his lecture and upon her entry stopped for a moment at the sound where the faces of her classmates turned towards her.

"Sorry Professor." She dipped her head and did not bother with an explanation as the face of Draco invaded her vision. His eyes squinted for a moment as she took her seat next to Richard, which was the seat just in front of Draco. She could feel his eyes on her back as she learned towards Richard to thank him for saving her a spot. He must not have forgotten the letter and that knowledge pulled at her, making it difficult for her concentration to remain on the lecture before her. When they were finally released to practise the subject of today's lecture and the room filled with the noise of charms and excited chatter at the failed attempts, Roxanne let out the breath she did not know she was holding. It was not until Richard threw his arm around her shoulders and laughed before she realized that he was talking to her. The movement relaxed her and she felt shielded from the stare she knew she still received from Draco.

"That's alright Roxy,-" He whispered in her ear, "-I don't want to work with them either, but you don't have to look so pained." She turned her face towards his, looking at him for an explanation before it all fell into place. It was a group assignment which lay before her and Draco and his desk mate were now a part of said group. The corner of her lips twitched into a smirk as she shook her head before placing it on his shoulder for a moment.

"I think we can take 'em." She whispered back in response before turning around slowly to face them. Her eyes avoided Draco's for a moment as she recognized Pansy sitting next to him looking concerned, her eyes darting back and forth between Roxanne and Draco. Finally she brought herself to meet his stare and a moment passed before Richard spoke up, bringing them all back to the project at hand.

He guided the group through the assignment with ease and almost entirely on his own, using Pansy as help when Roxanne failed to focus on his request for the third time. As the noise in the classroom grew, the silence between Draco and Roxanne screamed in her ears, until he finally leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it before looking over at Richard and Pansy, who were deep in concentration, a look of annoyance spreading quickly across Rich's face as Pansy failed to grasp the wand movement, causing Roxanne to wince, and giving her the urge to remind him to have patience. Teaching her father's students over the summers had taught her that the student would absorb their teacher's mood. They would never get anywhere if they were both frustrated.

"Well,-" He began when he realized that they had a moment of isolation amongst the chaos around them. "-was it good news?" He tried to look conversational but the urge in his voice betrayed him and she watched him for a moment as her suspicions grew.

"It was interesting news." She mentioned far more honestly than she intended. His eye brow rose at this and he leaned in closer, the smell of fresh leaves filled his nose briefly once again, and his expression softened as he considered another approach.

"Business or pleasure?" His softened expression revealed a slight smirk at the comment.

"Both" She smiled.

"That _is_ interesting, but you know, it is unwise to combine the two." He advised in an effort to buy himself time. She was skilfully avoiding his questions, and he regretted not giving her more credit when he ran through how he thought the conversation would have panned out.

"Thank you Draco for that advice. I will pass the message along to him." She whispered more harshly than she intended. Did he not realize that she was saving him from having to confirm or deny his allegiances. If he knew her brother it could only mean the rumours about him were true. She only wished to spare him the confirmation, and selfishly she did not want to know.

"Hmm, so it is a 'he'." The interest in his voice was hard to disguise.

"Why is that relevant? His voice remained harsh and guarded, though he did not seem to notice through his interest.

"Perhaps it's not, who did you say it was again?"

"I didn't" At this she hooked her finger on the opening of Richard's pocket, tugging a few times to grab his attention, hoping for a distraction. Her actions were left unnoticed as Richard and Pansy continued to work the spell at hand, Richard's excitement at the growing incantation and at Pansy's evident understanding of the concepts left her hand and her hopes unattended.

"Yes, that is also interesting." This he said more to himself than to her.

"Draco, is there something you want? Although I am of course flattered,-" Her voice peaked here in her frustration and this time it did not go unnoticed. He leaned back as she leaned in, and he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty by the way he hounded her. "-but this is the most attention you have shown me since our first year, and I cannot help but notice your change in interests since last night. Since we are handing out advice, mine to you would be to get on with it." At this he sat for a moment, deciding that his general games would leave this girl unmoved. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, allowing his emotions to flash across his face.

"Honestly, the initials seemed familiar to me." He confessed, shrugging.

Her anger subsided at his honesty, but her annoyance remained. "Are you somehow unable to ask direct questions?"

"I'm asking now Roxanne." He tried

She sat, unmoved as she watched him struggle with the words. It was a rare thing to see Draco squirm, and she found herself enjoying it.

"Who is it Roxy?" He tried again, the confidence previously drained, replaced by guilt.

She sighed, "No one you should know."

"Should?" He cocked his head at her choice of words.

"No-I...-It's just- well he's" She stumbled and struggled with her mishap, her pale checks flushed with the effort, but she was silenced by a hand on hers. The embodied hand lingered and she followed the limb up to the face of Draco. He shook his head kindly.

"I'll find out eventually." He challenged, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He let the subject drop, for now. He had his own closets full of skeletons; it would be slightly hypocritical to demand that she spill the contents of her life before him.


End file.
